


Little Wonders

by KimliPan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out, First Kiss, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimliPan/pseuds/KimliPan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The very first time Arthur actually noticed it, he thought it was just a clever trick of the sparking fire. He slowly realized Merlin had magic, however, and decided to confront him about it. Soon after the confrontation, he will also realize his own feelings as well as Merlin's, and decide whether or not to confront those as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hardest Part

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually started as a (long-overdue) drabble challenge, and this idea (prompted by "Arthur Already Knows") grew a lot bigger than I expected it to. I'm so eager to get it out to prove that I'm working on it since I was supposed to post it exactly a week ago! So I'm posting it as a multi-chapter, and hopefully I'll have the second chapter out next week.

The very first time Arthur actually noticed it, he thought it was just a clever trick of the sparking fire. It illuminated Merlin's eyes, making them bright for a moment like a star before dusk, only soon to fade back to show the tepid blue beneath it, steely but familiar, warm. His musings were limited to pretending not to notice he found them striking. He tore his gaze away and threw a piece of timber at Merlin, _it took you long enough._

If he could have willed it, he wasn't sure he'd have stayed so naïve.

But after noticing it a second time, perhaps months later, Arthur became intrigued by the ember-eyes his servant managed to create. It was so enticing, yet so fleeting – he began to wait for it, embarrassed just enough by his own affections that he made sure Merlin wouldn't see him watching.

But he _was_ watching, and that's how Arthur noticed the tiny whispered word and the consistency and vibrancy with which he wore that gold.

Of course he was angry at first, but he chose not to speak. They were with the knights, and he preferred to confront this betrayal privately – Merlin at least owed him that.

But then he began noticing the little things he hadn't seen before: Convenient branches; random, helpful fires; the earth trembling at just the right moment, causing bandits or rocks or whatever was needed to fall.

Then came Merlin's moods. They were often in the face of danger, if not immediately following, and it made him think back to Merlin on horseback, weak and useless, frigid from the icy burn of the dorocha, begging Arthur to understand, to let him come. He had been worried sick and almost risked the entire quest to try and save Merlin – but it had been little more than a day before Merlin returned to the knights in perfect health, and Arthur had been so relieved to see it than to think it strange.

 _Magic,_ he thought now. It had always been magic, right at the very start. How his torch had lit up and engulfed the beast in Camelot's water supply, _magic._ The fire when he and Merlin and Gwaine had been trapped by slave traders, _magic._ The mysterious victory against Morgana's attacks, the way he seemed to just _know_ things, how he was _always_ there, _magic._ It was all magic, punctuated by agitation and aggravation, growing darker and more frequent and now that Arthur knew the truth, it was more maddening than ever.

How could he appreciate it when it had been done against his will? He never asked for magical protection, and how dare Merlin keep this from him? It was a betrayal, no matter how little Arthur doubted his loyalty, because he thought they were, at least one some level, _friends,_ and now all Arthur can believe is, _he must think me stupid._

And while his anger did not dissipate, his affection did swell, because even knowing the penalty for magic was death, Merlin stood by him.

His heart was as torn as his demeanor. It was exhausting being both hot and cold with Merlin, sometimes trying to ease Merlin into confession with extra allowances (inviting him to sit while Arthur eats, goading him about knowledge Gaius may have passed onto him, teasing him excessively), other times so angry he could hardly stand to look at him. Left restless and with no outlet, he was resigned to pacing the room, one arm crossed over his stomach, his other bent up to rest his thumb thoughtfully against his lips.

"Merlin, wait," he said, his heart pounding as he reckoned the right thing to do. "I need to talk to you."

"Sire," said Merlin stubbornly, voice low and heavy and loud. It was only fair, Arthur had just ordered him to leave without much reason. It was cheeky, wounded pride – insubordinate, but present, and Arthur wondered had he a brother, would he have been this maddening.

"Sit down."

Merlin sighed in a half-groan that made Arthur's stomach unsettled. A heat was rising in him – how could Merlin be angry with _him?_ – but he forced it down by reminding himself of Merlin's feats, though he still didn't understand them.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" he asked after a short silence, during which Merlin, to his credit, did sit.

Alarmed might be the right word to describe the parting of Merlin's lips or the widening of his eyes, but he said nothing.

"I mean about…" He gestured vaguely to Merlin; his cheeks flushed. Meanwhile Arthur's hair prickled at the acknowledgement of magic and he wrinkled his nose, feeling sour.

"Not that it's any business of _yours_ ," came the petulant reply, equally as sour but altogether more prideful than Arthur could currently manage.

"Of _course_ it's my business, _Mer_ lin—" he started, but Merlin cut him off with an irritated,

"You can't tell me what to do in my free time—"

"I'm pretty sure that's what _laws_ are _for—"_

"Since when is dating someone who's not the _king_ illegal?" Merlin demanded hotly, and Arthur stepped back, stunned. A silence followed, heavy with bitterness and regret. There was a darkness in the words, it was as if Merlin dropped a weight that was far too heavy which he had been carrying for far too long.

"It's none of your business," Merlin pressed on, in defense of Arthur's silence. "It never has been, you've made that clear enough."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

 Another silence hung, this one thicker and more awkward. Merlin shifted and followed up with a small attempt at speaking. "You're not asking about Tyr," he said, but Arthur's head was buzzing with _dating_ and _someone_ and _not the king,_ meaning not Arthur, and the anger rose in him again, recreating the heat that turned his stomach and put his hair on end.

"For god's sake, Merlin, I'm not talking about the stable boy, I'm talking about your magic!" he blurted out, all at once hoping to get some sort of peace from Merlin, maybe even honesty.

But he just stood there, stunned into silence, which angered Arthur more than he had hoped it would satisfy.

Merlin didn't even deny it.

He didn't even feign ignorance. He didn't shake his head or cover his mouth, or even look away. He just stood there, lips parted and skin pale, maintaining his eye contact.

"How stupid do you think I am?" It came out breathy, exasperated. Merlin sat down. "All these years, and I never knew it – a sorcerer, right under my nose. Beside me, _serving_ me, _polishing my armor_." As his anger rose, so did his voice, and Merlin seemed to withdraw into himself in the seat, mouth now closed as he looked away.

Still silence from his servant. It made his heart pound faster and his other senses dull. Cotton filled his ears, and his vision was blurred all but for Merlin. He had to fight to control his urges to grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard enough to shock him into some kind of acknowledgement. So he said nothing and held himself upright instead, never taking his eyes off Merlin, too afraid of himself to move.

"What do you want me to say, Arthur?" he asked, and all at once that anger and tension that held Arthur so uptight eased at the sound of his name said so helpless and honest and dry. "How long have you known?"

He wanted to know how that was all Merlin could ask, but he only answered, "A few months now," and Merlin nodded as if to say, _yes, that explains a lot_. Arthur felt suddenly ashamed.

"I, erm—I misinterpreted—" Merlin rubbed his palms against his legs and stood up. "I thought something else was—going on with—" He gestured vaguely to Arthur. "Us."

And what could Arthur say to that, but a singular, sheepish, "Oh," as it was his turn to shift uncomfortably. This had somehow switched from an argument to an awkward situation where he had no control.

The anger resettled, however. How could Merlin bring that up at a time like this? What gave him the right when Arthur was the one who'd been wronged? And worst of all –

"How could you even _be_ hopeful," which came out far worse than he meant it. As he said it, his swelling appreciation for Merlin bubbled in his gut, reminding him of his torn heart. But the anger and darkness that sharpened Merlin's eyes made him want to throw up.

"Merlin, that's not—"

"So, what then? Are you going to have me arrested and tried treason, or what?" he demanded, offering up his wrists. "Go on, then, why don't you."

"Stop it, will you?" Arthur asked, pushing his hands down. "Just," just what? "Just, go. Leave me." As he turned to walk the room, Merlin made no move.

 "Sire…" he said, and there was no irony in it, no weight of irritation. There was a moment when Arthur thought something more might come – an apology, an explanation, maybe even bragging, knowing Merlin.

But there was nothing, and then Merlin was gone.

He let out a long, hard breath. This evening was supposed to give him a resolve, but now his heart was aching more than ever.


	2. Roll Right Off Your Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur struggles to reconcile his feelings on magic and balance his feelings for Merlin with the law.

Arthur sat in front of his breakfast with his weight on his elbow, staring down at the plate of food with no real focus. His thumb and forefinger were resting idly against the corners of his mouth while George teetered about the room clearing out every little nook Merlin neglected to tidy, managing as well to get on every last one of Arthur's nerves.

He had supposed it would have been a relief not to face Merlin in the morning, but it turned out he had supposed wrong. With George attending to his every minute need, he found he had to play king and put on face even in the privacy of his own bedchamber – something he wasn't accustomed to anymore thanks to Merlin's impertinence.

And many thanks, indeed, he thought as he found himself getting short with George's endless meticulousness.

"Leave it," he snapped, dropping his hand to the table as he turned over his shoulder to see George scrubbing at the wall with brush to get out a stain that had been there so long Arthur stopped noticing it. There was a moment of disdain on George's face, as though Arthur had asked him to give up his very livelihood.

The moment was cut short, however, when the door to his room opened and Merlin walked in.

Having been told of Arthur's disinterest in seeing him, George rushed to the door, an arm outstretched to push him out.

"His Highness will not be needing your services," he said. Glad for the buffer, Arthur busied himself by cutting up the food on his plate. "He's asked me to cover for your duties in the meanwhile."

" _Has he_." Merlin's voice was defiant, even angry. It was a relief in some respects. At least it wasn't timid, Arthur didn't think he could stand that.

This way, he could just sit there and let George try to brush Merlin off, waiting as he had when Agravaine interrogated Gaius. The thought made him frown at himself as he put his fork and knife down and began to tear up his bread instead.

Still, he couldn't even look at Merlin. He was too angry, had to think, especially now that the magic was hanging in the open between them like some kind of barrier. He wanted an apology, one he didn't think Merlin was willing to give when he probably expected one in return.

But, really. How _could_ he have been hopeful? Arthur couldn't stop turning it over in his mind. From every angle, it made no sense. How could he have believed that with his magic, as big a secret as that, something could have happened?

Then – why _shouldn't_ he be hopeful, he realized. This all started, after all, because Arthur couldn't stop staring at Merlin's eyes. And Arthur was always making exceptions for him, taking risks, giving him special allowances that weren't even afforded to Guinevere. Arthur thought it was absurd, though – even then – to make that leap, especially when he'd been keeping such a big secret. What would have happened then if he found out _after_ he'd taken a sorcerer as a…

Without thinking, he glanced up to see Merlin fighting to get past George. It felt like a horse had kicked him in the chest, the wind was blown right out of Arthur. He was staring at him, right over George's shoulder with his brows knit together in confusion – possibly, Arthur realized, concern.

"George," he said, loud enough for the both of them to hear. "Tell Merlin to come back and see me once he's mucked the stables, polished my armor, sharpened my blades and seen to it all my clothes are both laundered and folded."

It was against his better judgment, but even though Arthur wanted to ignore Merlin, in the end he simply couldn't.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell the king he's being a royal _ass_ ," Merlin said, and Gorge didn't seem to like any of it.

 

 

It was barely lunchtime when Leon stood before Arthur's table in the dining room, shoulders square and jaw firm-set straight. Arthur hurried to finish off a note on a document that needed to get back to Geoffrey for the archives.

"You called for me, Sire?"

The formality was a relief, in part because Arthur knew it was a show of respect and not a sign of vanity. He let out a breath and laid his hands on the table to push himself up.

"I did, Leon," he said as he started toward the door and down the hall.

As they entered one of the meeting rooms, he gestured for Leon to close to door and he him. "I'm in need of counsel and I fear I don't know who else to ask."

Leon stepped forward, listening while Arthur leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Surely you have your advisors, my lord."

"You're of noble blood. You were born and raised in Camelot, and you have a good, solid sense what is wrong and right beyond what's simply proper." Leon blushed and looked down; his humility was honest. "Right now, I need someone I can come to in strict confidence. Since you're one of the few I can trust, I hope you'll help me."

"It would be an honor, sire."

Arthur nodded as a sigh escaped him. Even though he knew he could count on Leon, it still put lightness in his chest to hear it.

"It's regarding the laws on magic." There was a visible curiosity to Leon. His posture opened up and he rested his hand on a chair, giving his chin a little nod as if to say, _I'm listening._ "You've sympathized with the druids in the past, have you not? They saved your life. You don't think they're all bad."

He paused and pushed his brows together, carefully choosing his words. "Well, I have a hard time believing every sorcerer must be evil," he said. Arthur appreciated the caution to tread carefully, but he wanted an open response.

"It's easy enough to think that, I agree. But I've known so few sorcerers in my life…"

"Is this about Merlin, sire?"

Arthur looked up with a start.  His heart began to pound at the mention of his servant's name. Not moments after wishing for more openness from Leon was he cursing the bold accusation. "What does Merlin have to do with this?" he asked hotly, and Leon just shrugged.

"Gaius was once a known sorcerer," he said levelly as though the answer were obvious. "And it's clear the two of you have been quarreling."

Arthur's nerves were almost instantly leveled. He gave a half-smile, relieved but stressed all the same, and nodded to Leon.

"Are you thinking of reform?" Leon offered, and it would be a lie to deny it so he nodded.

"I am," he said. He pushed off the table and crossed the room, the energy in his legs and pounding in his chest requiring to do something. "And there's something else you should know. Merlin has magic."

There was a silence and when Arthur looked back at Leon, he simply nodded. There was no surprise, no betrayal of shock – just a calm, ready acknowledgement of something that seemed to make perfect sense.

"You're not alarmed?"

"Merlin is hardly a threat, sire." A small, fond smile crossed his lips which made Arthur irritated, but it relaxed him all the same. "And it is true we've suspected as much in the past."

"We?" Arthur asked, but shook his head immediately. "Nevermind, but tell me—"

"I am not the only one who would think it wise of you to consider moderation in regards to the laws on magic." There was that openness again, though this time Arthur didn't curse it. He fell silent and instead, listened, reminding himself of words Gaius had once spoken to him about the many kinds of men who supported Arthur and the world he would build. "And while such amendments would likely be met with resistance from those who still fear magic, on the whole…"

"On the whole, what?"

"On the whole, sire, I think the people of Camelot would feel a breath of relief."

Arthur considered it, nodded his head and took a seat across from the knight.

"Thank you, Sir Leon," he said, feeling tired and heavy and worried for the security of Merlin's not-so-well-kept lies. "You are to keep an eye on him. I want a report in the morning of everything he's done. You are dismissed."

"As you wish, sire."

 

 

It was getting late in the day when Arthur finally had another moment to himself between meetings and audiences, and he found he wanted the opinion of the one man who had served the kingdom for longer than anyone else he knew: Gaius.

Without knocking, he opened the door to his physician's quarters and instead found Merlin sulking in the window reading a book with his feet up on the table. When he didn't rise, Arthur stepped in slowly and closed the door behind him.

This was good too, he thought. There was no one listening in here, and Arthur thought he might be ready to talk.

"Have you finished all your chores, _Mer_ lin?"

His servant looked up, startled at first but then his eyes narrowed and he returned his attention to his book.

"I figured George could cover it," he said darkly. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to ignore that."

Crossing the room, he considered how to bring magic back into the conversation without setting Merlin defensive. This hostility, it was how he pushed Arthur away in the past, made him stop asking questions. Today, Arthur would not be bullied.

"Show me what you can do," he said, and it was weird to say it – to request magic from someone who'd barely acknowledged he had it. "Well, go on."

Affronted, Merlin raised his brow and looked back up at Arthur. "I'm not your fool, Arthur," he barked. "I don't perform on command."

"For once in your life, Merlin, don't get haughty. Just do as I say."

Merlin sighed and closed his book. Finally, his full attention.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. Arthur realized he didn't know. What was he doing by asking it? Could Merlin create things? Flowers, birds, maybe? Or could he move them, make something fly across the room? He shifted his weight and looked away as he wondered about it, but Merlin stopped him and said,

"Here, watch."

Stretching an open palm toward the fireplace, Merlin muttered a few words (Arthur watched for those golden eyes) and in a moment, embers were floating out from the fire and stretching up toward the ceiling like stars. Arthur pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips as he looked up, watching now as the stars took the same form as the night sky. The candles in the room dimmed. It was golden and warming and quite lovely, really.

And when Arthur looked down, he realized how well it highlighted Merlin's face, this low, shimmering, all-encompassing light. His eyes hooked onto the sharp highlights of his cheekbones just under his bright eyes, somewhat darkened in what seemed both confusion and worry.

Merlin pointed up at one of the constellations and said something that Arthur didn't really hear, having already been enraptured by the striking profile of Merlin's neck and chin and nose. Merlin was beautiful like this, honest and vulnerable and open. For the first time, it truly felt like Arthur really knew him.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and slid his fingers into the short tufts of Merlin's dark hair and pulled him into a kiss, heavy and sudden and warm. A breath of relief. Arthur could have lost himself in it, could have forgotten the laws and the magic and the reality of his kingdom. Let it all go.

Except that Merlin pushed him away. It was after a moment, and Arthur was sure Merlin would kiss him back, but then the sudden jerking of hands hitting his chest, knocking the air out of him as he pushed him away – it brought him down, reminded him to be ashamed of himself and his actions.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Is that meant to be part of the performance?" Merlin asked darkly. "Is this all a joke to you? Because it's not to me." He frowned deeply and looked between Arthur's eyes. He watched as his breathing heightened, and he felt his own heart begin to pound.

When he said nothing, Merlin went on.

"How could I be hopeful, right? How could this be something that could happen to me, of all people? If you think this has been hard for you, then you're a bigger ass than I thought." He turned around and grabbed his book before storming up the stairs and into his room.

"Merlin, please—"

But he turned back, affronted once more by Arthur's protests. "You think it's easy? Loving the one man who would be the person to have me hanged?"

"You can't believe that—"

"And why shouldn't I? You've given me no reason to believe otherwise, _how could I be so hopeful?_ "

Arthur staggered back, blown away by the use of his own words against him. "Don't be such an idiot, Merlin," he said, feeling helpless and angry at Merlin's offenses.

Merlin responded by closing himself in his room. When Arthur turned to leave, Gaius was entering the door, face set in a grim frown. Arthur wondered how much he'd heard.

"Tell Merlin I won't be needing him tomorrow, either," he said as he walked past.

"Of course, Sir," said Gaius, and Arthur felt sore to have incited his anger as well.


End file.
